Whispers
by blueflamefreak
Summary: The whispers of those who had no idea didn't matter. They did. They were the only ones that had ever mattered to her. non-massacre AU Itachi x Sakura x Shisui


Hey all, it's been a while since I last posted on here, hasn't it? Especially Naruto-verse. Anyway, I just wanted to warn the reader that I created this at 2:30 in the morning through a _lovely_ combination of slight insomnia, reading too much smut and failing miserably at finding much non-massacre AU. So yeah, no real clue as to where this came from. This ficlet was partially inspired by **paws-bells** and **just enough **who have written some lovely non-massacre stuff. Go read them, they're fantastic.

Yes, so beware the weirdness.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto. I'm just a poor uni student with too much time on her hands and too much stuff crammed into her head.

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The day she had been given a position on their team, those who knew watched and whispered that it wouldn't last long; her new teammates were sure to outdo the pink-haired medic at every turn.

There were fainter whispers, but whispers none-the-less, that she would die on the dangerous S-class missions that they took, that they would bring her crimson-drenched broken body back between them, shaking their heads. And they would say that she wasn't good enough; that the mission killed her, and the blood – her blood – adorning their bone-white armour and matching the colour of their eyes, would be washed away and she would be replaced by a more capable nin.

The whisperers never experienced the way they fought silently, seamlessly, as _they_ would back their opponents into her deadly, destructive fists where she decimated them, rendering them into unrecognisable bloody pulps.

And they would never see how _they_ would watch with hungry eyes as the blood of their enemies sprayed across her mask and the bone-white armour, dripping from the tips of the blood-soaked pink locks.

They would never hear of the heated passion between the three of them as they feverishly touched and slid against each other, bloody masks still firmly in place after each kill.

And even if they did, they would never understand the intricate inner workings of their team and the ties that bound them tightly together, never understand how they fit together; the dangerous Uchiha captain, his cousin and the pink-haired kunoichi.

They were so efficient, so brutal in what they did as one, as a team; their strengths overriding individual weaknesses, they stayed together, mission after bloody mission proving successful.

Eventually, the whisperers were forced to back down, to concede that they were untouchable, undefeatable… invincible. But the whisperers still watched, waiting for one slip, one mistake to send the three tumbling down from where they had risen to in their own demand for being the best of the best.

_They search for imagined inadequacies. _She snorted softly. _**They will find none,**_ Inner Sakura hissed back at her, fierce protectiveness completely contradictory to the blank, bloody, bone-white mask she wore as she stared out the window of a small hut they had found, into a darkening sky.

She watched, completely entranced by the soft pitter-patter of rain on the roof and window before removing her mask slowly, relishing the change from her ANBU self to her regular self.

"What is it?" A soft murmur, curious in itself. She turned, brilliant emerald eyes capturing soft onyx.

"They always whispered that I wouldn't amount to anything, that I wouldn't stand a chance on this team." Her reply was equally soft, yet it held the attention of both men in the room.

"You proved them wrong." A glance out the window into the darkness; an exchange of silent messages through crimson eyes and the scrolls were returned to their packs. They removed their masks and carefully lined them up against the wall alongside the pink-haired medic's before stepping forward and reaching for her to soothe familiar fears.

"You think too much." Cool silk on her left.

"I'm sure we can fix that." Molten amusement on her right.

"Indulge me." Her voice, low with desire as eyelids fluttered closed. It was where she wanted to be.

She cried out as they simultaneously rocked into her, back arching between slick bodies, emerald eyes catching the three bone-white masks lining the wall; the flickering candlelight casting a ghostly glow over the masks as they watched the three shinobi desperately pressed together with blank hollow eyes.

"Please, Itachi, Shisui… more. I need more!" She panted, eyes rolling into the back of her head as they complied. She came with a keening cry before collapsing onto a warm solid – decidedly male – chest, which rumbled in amusement.

"And they say you can't keep up with us." A whisper from below.

"You're needed. Never doubt that." A command from above. She smiled.

"They whispered that I'd die in the first month of joining this team." There was a pause as two sets of onyx eyes met and burned in their displeasure.

"You are much too strong for that." She smiled and pressed her lips onto a sweaty temple.

"We are strong apart, but together… we are invincible. Let them whisper. They don't matter. This does. Since you joined us, this has been all that matters." The candle flickered before going out and plunging the hut into darkness.

"Thank you." She whispered. Her lips tiredly found the corner of the lips of the other Uchiha before settling back between them.

The three masks kept silent vigil over the trio, gleaming white and watching with hollow eyes, faint whispering projected from them for a beat before falling silent.

The whispers would never stop, but for a short time, they could pretend that they did.

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I told you it was weird. Cookies for reviewers.


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